


Risk and Reward

by SunshineAndSnark (GoodApollo27)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Altered Mental States, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dominance, M/M, Making a Mess of One's Desk, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Submission, Verstael Is a Horny Little Shit, scourge as lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodApollo27/pseuds/SunshineAndSnark
Summary: Sometimes, Verstael likes it rough. When Ardyn fails to satisfy his desire, he takes matters into his own hands.





	Risk and Reward

**Author's Note:**

> All I can say is that I am ridiculously overjoyed that I finally get to use the "Scourge as Lube" tag.
> 
> A special thanks to my dear friends Sayura and Gizzwhizz, who both beta read this fic, and gave it their Seal of Approval in Smutty Nastiness.

The office chair creaked softly under their combined weight. Verstael sat perched on Ardyn’s lap, straddling his waist. Behind him, a scattered pile of research reports, forgotten in favor of more stimulating pursuits. His eyes fluttered shut as Ardyn pulled him into a soft kiss, and for a moment, his senses were overwhelmed. Cinnamon, velvet, wine.

The scent of him teased Verstael throughout the day, always lingering just beyond reach as Ardyn followed him about. It drove him wild on nights like this, their bodies pressed close, limbs tangled.

Verstael moaned against Ardyn’s mouth, trying to egg him on. The man was a devoted lover. Generous in his affections and surprisingly gentle. Sweet, even. 

Verstael didn't want sweet. Not tonight, at least. He pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips as he wound a hand through Ardyn's hair, tugging. Tonight, he wanted something more. Something  _ else _ . 

He'd gotten a taste of it once, when they had both become a touch carried away in their activities. It had slipped through, tingeing Ardyn's lips as they kissed, an electric bitterness spreading over his tongue. A little extra force in his touch, a feral glint in his eyes. He wanted that forceful edge that Ardyn worked so hard to keep in check. The hunger and demand and raw power that went with it. 

Ardyn fucked harder when the Scourge took hold, more focused on satisfying his own urges than anything else. It was glorious, and Verstael had grown addicted after the first time. He wanted it. Craved it. And he knew just how to get it.

Verstael pressed into another kiss, his heart already racing in anticipation. His fingers crept over the soft, sensitive flesh of Ardyn's throat, goosebumps rising after his touch. Just under his fingertips, Ardyn's pulse fluttered, his vocal cords humming with each hushed moan.

Verstael grinned against his lips. Always so responsive, his dear boyfriend. He sat up straighter, caging Ardyn in. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he bit down. Not enough to cause any damage, but certainly not a delicate nibble, either. At the same time, he tightened his fingers around Ardyn’s throat, squeezing. An alarmed noise gurgled up, choked off under the pressure of his grip. He leaned back, licking his lips as they curled into a satisfied smirk. 

Ardyn's eyes flew open, bright gold and wide with shock. “Vers…” he croaked, brow furrowing. It was clear what Verstael was planning. Putting him into a state of perceived danger, attempting to dominate him… His body would react accordingly, and Verstael knew it. Aggression, dominance, threats; all could coax the Scourge to awaken within him. And once roused, it would feed on the lust simmering low in Ardyn’s stomach.

Despite the show of displeasure, Ardyn failed to put up a fight. That fact didn’t escape Verstael’s attention. If Ardyn truly wanted, he could shove him aside with ease. He could put a stop to this with little effort.

But he didn’t. Instead, Ardyn simply sat there, gazing at Verstael as the Scourge took hold. 

The rich gold streaks in his eyes transformed into something brighter, something wild. An unnatural citrine glow that seethed with the boundless power residing in Ardyn’s bones and blood. A chill slipped through his skin, spreading with it an ashen hue. The very air seemed to electrify around him, and Verstael pressed closer, wanting to feel it for himself.

It wasn’t a full daemonic transformation. Verstael had witnessed such a thing only a few times, triggered by force during a small handful of experiments. Trials that tested Ardyn’s durability, the limits of his body’s healing and regenerative abilities. What they had achieved right now was merely a halfway point, a simple taste of Ardyn’s true power.

A taste to which Verstael had grown hopelessly addicted.

Releasing his grip on Ardyn’s throat, he raised a hand, skimming it over the fine angle of Ardyn’s cheekbone.  _ Beautiful… _

Ardyn snatched his wrist and shoved him back against the desk, cutting his reverie short. His lips lifted in a silent snarl.

“Sneaky little bastard,” he scolded, his voice having shifted into that strange, melodic purr.

It sent shivers cascading down Verstael’s spine, his cock twitching in the confines of his slacks. He struggled against Ardyn’s hold, the edge of his desk biting into his spine.

“There was nothing sneaky about it. I know what I want,” Verstael countered, breathless and grinning. “And the most effective manner to get it.”

"You could have asked. Aren't I always oh so eager to accommodate?" Ardyn retorted. He stood up, sliding Verstael from his lap until he towered over the smaller man. The tips of his teeth showed as he grinned, watching Verstael's chin lift as he sought to maintain eye contact. 

"You wouldn't have been satisfied with mere  _ asking _ ," Verstael said with a huff, narrowing his eyes. "We both know better. You would have made me beg."

A gleeful laugh erupted from Ardyn. "Perhaps. But now… Even as you have what you wanted, I'll see to it that you're still begging before I'm done with you," he growled under his breath, stroking his fingers across Verstael’s neck as he had done to him moments ago. “My dear little fool. The Scourge is no toy, not yours to play with no matter what you may think. You have a death wish, Verstael.”

The whisper of his name, how it spilled from Ardyn’s lips like something sinfully sweet, like poisonous honey, pulled a soft moan from him. He nearly reached for his belt, the ache between his legs increasing with every passing moment. He could get off just like that, with Ardyn only whispering his name. That delicious voice, savoring every syllable as it slipped forth... He gritted his teeth, forcing his hand to remain where it was. Patience. There were better things in store than a hasty handjob.

Ardyn cocked his head, appearing confused for a moment. “Nothing? No feisty little retort?” He grabbed Verstael’s shoulders, hauling him closer until their bodies were flush, his face hovering just inches from the scientist’s. 

Verstael swallowed hard. He felt the firmness of Ardyn’s cock pressing through his pants, grinding against his own. His knees trembled; he surely would have stumbled if not for Ardyn pinning him snug against his desk.

Ardyn grabbed Verstael's neck, a reflection of their position just moments ago. His breath caught under the firm press of fingers, automatic alarm shooting through him. His body's natural reaction to the threat of danger. It was invigorating.

He tilted his head back, exposing more of his throat in open invitation. If he wanted, Ardyn could easily crush his windpipe, tear open his trachea, spill his blood all over his precious research reports. And he knew that the Scourge in Ardyn hungered for just that. But Ardyn wouldn't hurt him, even like this. He wouldn't. Ardyn adored him, and his will was stronger than anything that Verstael had ever known. 

And if it all failed… well, there were worse ways to go. 

As Ardyn loomed over him, his hair fell down around Verstael’s face, framing them both in a curtain of dark crimson. Something soft tickled against the side of his cheek, and he opened his eyes just in time to see the curtain ripple as Ardyn ducked his head down. The heat of his tongue pulled a thin whine from Verstael as he lapped at the twin scars on his neck. Tremors ran through him at the treatment; Ardyn's grip forceful and possessive, but his lips and tongue delicate, tender and adoring against Verstael's skin. A flicker of his true self shining through the haze of Scourge. 

Another desperate whimper slipped from him as he shuddered in Ardyn’s hold. His cock throbbed in demanding need, but he wasn't certain if it would be satisfied anytime soon. Ardyn was unpredictable like this.

His lips barely brushed Verstael's neck as he spoke in a low whisper. "If you won't talk, then how about you put that smart little mouth of yours to better use, hmm?" He pushed down on Verstael's shoulder, forcing the scientist to kneel in front of his desk. The small column of drawers pressed against his spine, leaving no route of escape.

"Oh, how obedient you are," Ardyn cooed, patting Verstael's head. He drew back just enough to undo his belt and pants, allowing both to fall to the floor with little ceremony.

Verstael gazed up at Ardyn with a frown. This was lovely and all, and he did enjoy practicing a degree of submission, but it was more delicious to put up a fight, to be conquered. There was no fun in simply giving in. 

"Now… open up." Ardyn leaned toward him, his cock bobbing mere inches away. A mouthwatering sight. Much as he wanted to take it between his lips, Verstael held back. Instead, he gathered up as much petulance as he could muster and turned his face away with a disdainful sniff. 

The reaction was instant. As careful as Ardyn was being, the Scourge was still influencing him. Every second it screamed at him to take what he wanted, stoking Ardyn's need into something unbearable. He couldn't fully resist it’s hunger forever. 

He grabbed Verstael's chin, his grip deliciously rough, and jerked his head back. There was only a moment to take a quick breath before Ardyn forced himself into his mouth, the full length of his cock sliding past his lips to nudge at his throat. 

Verstael's eyes fluttered shut, his tongue automatically stroking against the intrusion. That hot, rigid flesh...  _ Gods, yes.  _ This was exactly what he wanted. Exactly how he wanted it.

Ardyn wasted little time on foreplay or formalities. Reaching down with both hands to grasp at white-blond hair, he began to thrust in earnest. 

A sobbing moan rose from Verstael's chest, only to be pushed back down into his throat. Wet, slick sounds filled the room. Wonderful, filthy background music to Ardyn's growls and gasps, the little praises that slipped out of him as he dug his nails into Verstael's scalp.

"Yes… My sweet Vers… You terrible... dirty little fuck."

Verstael soaked up the praise, the profanity. It wasn't like Ardyn to swear or refer to him in such a crude way, which only made it all the better when it  _ did _ happen. All of those manners and unflappable poise broken down in the heat of raw need. 

He squinted up at Ardyn, catching the look of rapture on his face. Towering above him, shadows flickering around him and ichor spilling down his cheeks like obsidian tears… Ardyn looked like a god. But he was far from even that. Ardyn was a creature beyond the gods, something entirely his own. 

It was a privilege to pleasure him. Verstael would never say as much, but he knew it as truth. His own private little truth. 

Greedy for his finish, Verstael began to suck and swallow around him. Ardyn's rhythm stuttered, his fingers grasping even tighter at Verstael's hair, the pain sharp and brilliant. An aching cry filled the room. Then, heat rushed over his tongue, flooding thick and sweetly acidic down his throat. The Scourge crackled through him instantly, an oily darkness that curled up and settled low in his stomach. It heightened his senses even as it spread a fog through his thoughts and he whimpered openly. 

When Ardyn finally spent himself and loosened his grip, Verstael slumped down against the desk. He felt strangely satisfied, even as his cock still begged for touch, twitching flushed and swollen against his belly. His head lolled back, bumping against the desk as he blinked owlishly at Ardyn. Scourge dribbled from the corner of his mouth, but he made no move to wipe it away, his hands heavy at his sides

Not that he was given much time to do so. The world spun around him as he was lifted to his feet. He stumbled back until he leaned against his desk. His pants were yanked down his narrow hips, his underwear following soon after. Then his coat, the sweater underneath, leaving him stripped bare. Verstael shivered, though it had nothing to do with the chill of the room.

“I’m not done with you,” Ardyn hissed in his ear, his voice distorted. His hunger was far from sated by Verstael’s previous attentions. If anything, it seemed to have intensified. A dark, bruised purple, nearly black, bled across his eyes, flickering against the burning yellow of his irises.

Adoration bloomed through Verstael at the sight of him, partly his own, and part of it roused by the Scourge now humming through him. While it triggered aggression in Ardyn, it produced submission in it’s new host. He would get back on his knees for Ardyn if asked. He would suck him off all night until he was filled up with Ardyn's darkness. Anything. Anything for this beautiful creature standing before him.

In a moment of tenderness, he reached toward Ardyn's cheek, tilting his head up for a kiss. But he had cast away any capacity for tenderness. That’s how the night had started, after all.

Ardyn grabbed Verstael’s wrist, lifting it to draw his fingers between his lips. He was merciless, licking and lapping, saliva and Scourge coating them when they at last slipped free. He turned Verstael over until he was bent across his desk, chest pressed against his scattered research reports, his ass on clear display. 

Verstael gasped, his lungs struggling to expand against the unforgiving metal surface. He craned his neck over his shoulder, fixing Ardyn with a desperate gaze.

Ardyn licked his lips, reaching out to slide a finger teasingly down Verstael’s cleft. “Prep yourself,” he commanded, fixing Verstael with a smoldering gaze.

It was an order that Verstael could not resist. Not with Ardyn looking at him like that. Like he was some delicious treat to be devoured. He would let Ardyn do just that. He would, in a heartbeat.

Obediently, Verstael pushed his slicked fingers into himself, biting back a whimper as they slipped in with little resistance. What Ardyn supplied was superior to any form of lubricant that Verstael had ever encountered. A wonderful convenience. Especially in the face of Ardyn's current impatience. 

While Versteal stretched and teased himself open, Ardyn pressed close, hands trailing up his hips. He leaned down and licked a stripe up the curve of Verstael’s lower back, staining his skin and pulling a series of tremors from his lover. 

“Good Vers,” he rasped, his breath hot against Verstael’s wet skin. He licked and nipped at those irresistibly freckled shoulders, rubbing his cock against the back of Verstael’s thigh. He was losing his grip on himself, Verstael’s previous attentions having done nothing to ease the lust and hunger bubbling just below the surface. The Scourge was singing in him, ordering him to  _ fuck, conquer, ruin him. _ It was growing difficult to resist. The will and desire of it was too tangled with his own.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Forcefully pulling Verstaels fingers free and ignoring the resultant whine of loss, Ardyn lined up and pushed in. Tight, impossible heat enveloped him. He curled his fingers around Verstael’s hip bones, pulling his scientist hard against him. 

A broken mewl dribbled out of Verstael, his hands scrabbling across his desk for an anchor, for anything to keep him tethered to reality as Ardyn began to move. A few slow, steady thrusts, then the fury took hold. His body jolted forward with every movement, the strands of his bangs falling loose above his brow. The desk creaked along with the rhythm, his pens rolling and rattling together in the top drawer.

Ardyn grasped Verstael's hips with both hands, fucking him hard and fast until Scourge leaked from his dear scientist, dripping down those pale legs in black, ichorous streaks. It spilled from Verstael with every thrust, even as he clenched to hold it in. It seeped from Ardyn, running down his hands in messy streaks, staining the ivory expanse of Verstael’s back. From there, it dripped down over his ribs like tiny dark raindrops, collecting on the tile floor in puddles and smears.

"Is this what you wanted?" Ardyn growled, a razor's edge beneath the honey of his voice. "To be fucked like this? Like the nasty little mess you are?"

Verstael could only whimper, not enough breath in his lungs or clarity in his brain to manage a response. There was nothing but the endless, driving rhythm of Ardyn's thrusts. The heat and drag of his cock. The bittersweet burn of the Scourge spilling over his skin, sinking into his veins. He surrendered to it completely. He was able to, with Ardyn. His lover would simply remove it from him when they were finished.

Time seemed to shift and bend, the world collapsing in on itself. The heat and pleasure of it all gathered into a single pinprick of light, the intensity of a dark star searing within him. Then, it imploded.

Verstael screamed, throwing his head back as it all crashed over him, rushed out of him, flooded into him. Ardyn’s cries rose and tangled with his own, a primal, inhuman sound. It rattled through Verstael’s heart, scraping up his spine until the hairs on his nape stood on end. It was a sound that would send any sane human cowering. 

It was a sound that Verstael loved. He lost himself in it, going limp as Ardyn clawed and clutched him against his hips almost possessively, both of them shuddering and gasping through the aftershocks of their finish.

For a long moment, they remained like that, both too dazed and exhausted to move. Verstael was slumped over his desk, and would surely have been on the floor if the structure hadn't been holding him up. He didn't stir at all, save for deep, heavy breaths.

Ardyn was at last roused by the unpleasant sensation of his slipping free of Verstael. He raised his head, blinking the purple-hued fog from his eyes. The Scourge had finally settled, sated at last. But the mess lingered, wisps of miasma rising from the puddles on the floor, from the pallor of Verstael's skin. 

Ardyn pushed himself to stand upright, turning Verstael’s limp body over in his arms. His hair was disheveled, cheeks flushed and smeared with Scourge. More of it staining his lips, streaks across his throat, on his hips. His ribs rising and falling as he gasped in desperate breaths, eyes unfocused under heavy lids. 

Verstael was a mess. An utter wreck. Even so, Ardyn had never seen him look any more beautiful than he did right now. Raw and vulnerable, wrapped in a deep, thick contentment. It was a rare sight, Verstael so openly relaxed.

But he couldn't leave his darling like this. He could see the traces of Scourge pulsing through him, a purple-tinted blush beneath his skin.

With one hand cradling the back of his head, Ardyn pressed his lips to Verstael's and drew it out, gathering it back within him where it belonged. He couldn't have his dear scientist daemonified. He liked Verstael very much just as he was. 

Pulling back with a tired sigh, he waved his hand, and the rest of the surrounding mess evaporated away. The only trace of what had transpired was the utter chaos atop Verstael's desk, several pages of his reports wrinkled, torn, or stained with one substance or another. There was no fixing that, unfortunately. He would be more worried if he didn't know that Verstael kept several copies of every paper printed. 

He looked back to his scientist, a small grin forming on his lips. He licked his thumb, swiping it over a stray smudge of ichor clinging stubbornly to Verstael's cheek.

"I missed a spot, didn't I?" he cooed, gathering Verstael's limp frame into his arms. "You poor thing. Too worn out to even lift your head." Holding Verstael close, Ardyn carried his lover to his bed, still tucked into the corner of Verstael's office. 

"You insatiable little devil, you."

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Twitter! @and_snark


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